Even then, many years ago, even today, after so many years , I wrote for myself and for myself I write in order to look forward and backward. Varying the intensity. Conversing with the persistent,the invisible,the untouchable. Nursing the rejected,the useless,the hurt. Raising the ephemerals, hopeless, sicken. Look after the stray,the homeless,the insoluble! Just like then, many years ago, today, from my need to think, to resist, to exist, to coexist. Provided that the answer is yes, and even if I didn't know anything, slowly and with a lot ofeffort, I learned: Nothing is given away.
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